The Death of Alfred F Jones
by Oilux
Summary: "Alfred F. Jones didn't think that his life would end this way. He didn't think that he would be sent here of all places, or that he would ever get the chance to be the hero. Alfred F. Jones got to be the hero once in his life, and he made sure that he did his job well."


Inspired by bwusagi's picture on tumblr. It can be found here: tumblr /./ com / tagged/i-told-my-mom-not-to-talk-about-dead-people-too-much

This fanfiction has blood, talk about the Holocaust and the extermination camps, character death, and just all around angst. Read at own risk.

* * *

To say that Alfred F. Jones had no idea how he got to where he was in life would be a lie. He remembered every moment, every single decision, and every single person that led him to this point. As he bent over, knees unlocked of course he couldn't risk passing out because he forgot a simple detail, he grabbed onto the heavy plank of wood that for some reason, just had to be moved from one end of the camp to the other. Yet as the end of the wood dug into his blistered hands and gave him more splinters than he already had, Alfred couldn't help but think about what had led him to this point and time.

* * *

He had just been on a vacation in Germany. It wasn't the first place that he wanted to go, but he got his vacation on such short notice that planes to Germany were the only one's flying. Plus, he figured that Germany wouldn't be too bad. They had nice sights and good food. Though it probably paled in comparison to America's amazing food, it probably wouldn't be something that he could choke down. Right now though as he hefted the plank of wood over his shoulder, all Alfred wanted was a burger.

It was his third day there, and he was dinning in a small café that he had come across. Their food was good, and with so little people there it was definitely underrated around town. Alfred wasn't going to be able to go around and tell people how fabulous it was though, since he barely spoke German. He had to point to pictures on the menu to order when the waitress came over.

Alfred had just been getting ready to leave when the diner burst open. Alfred dropped his bag, falling to the ground as he heard footfalls and panicked yells. He knew right then and there that he shouldn't be found, and if he was then something bad would happen. Unfortunately, hiding under the table wasn't the best place. The police found him in less than five minutes, yanking him out by his elbow, making him hit his head against the table on the way out.

"Ouch! Hey man that hurt!" he complained. Alfred had suffered worse, but still that did hurt. The men around him shot him a glare, and Alfred glared right back. One hit him in the gut with his baton. Alfred almost fell to his knees, all the oxygen seeming to leave his body with that single hit. Stubbornly though, Alfred remained on his feet and cursed under his breath. Looking back, that wasn't the best decision. The baton came down on his head this time, knocking him unconscious instead of just out of breath.

When Alfred woke up again, he was in a room tied up with others who looked to be in much worse shape than he was. His whole body was sore, like he had been thrown against the wall a couple of times, not to mention that his entire head felt like it was splitting open at the seams.

"Hey," he whispered to the person next to him. Luckily, Alfred wasn't gagged, though he could see that others were. "What's going on?" The stranger next to him looked as if he was crazy.

"You do not know?" he asked. Alfred looked at his new friend up and down, taking in details this time. They were all wearing the same cotton uniform, which had white and blue vertical strips. Later, Alfred would wonder where his clothes went. No one was wearing shoes as well, something that Alfred would later understand why. Now though he just wanted to know where he was and what was going on. The last thing that he noticed was that while he was bound from head to toe, his new friend only had his hands tied behind his back.

"No man, the last thing that I remember was that I was in a diner in Germany," he told his friend. The other's eyes widened and he looked sympathetic. Alfred felt a pit grow in his stomach. He was sure that he wasn't going to like where this conversation was going already.

"We are off to concentration camp. For…um..unwantables?" he said the last word as a question, unsure of the English word that he wanted.

"Undesirables?" Alfred supplied, his face masking into one of horror when his friend nodded.

"Oh no this is all some mistake, I'm not meant to be here. I was just on vacation!" Alfred explained hurriedly, as if his friend held the key to his freedom.

"You could not pick worst place for vacation," his friend simply said, already looking resigned to his fate.

"Wait why are we all here? What right do they have to say that!?" Alfred was yelling now, but he could care less. His friend began to panic a bit, not wanting to attract attention.

"We are Jewish, it is simple like that. Though with your hair and eyes, they probably took you because you are American, and not part of the plan," he said. Alfred's eyes widened.

"What plan? What do my eyes and hair have to do with anything!?" Alfred was yelling even louder now, gesturing wildly to his hair and eyes.

"They wish to, how do you say, 'clean' the country."

Cleanse. They were going to cleanse the country and Alfred was one of the undesirables. Just because he was American and they didn't want American's here. Even though his panic and mental haze Alfred somehow knew that this would be the time to calm down. He didn't yell anymore, or scream, or shout. Alfred sat where he had been sitting all this time, wondering why him of all people.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones," he muttered out. Someone should know who he was, just in case.

"Chaim Berman," his friend replied after a moment of thought, like he had to remember his name.

"I would shake your hand if it wasn't tied behind my back," Alfred chuckled. Chaim smiled back, but he still looked nervous. Alfred just looked defeated.

The train underneath them finally began. Alfred heard some people scream in surprise and shock, but he couldn't bring himself to look up at them. He stared at his lap and pitied himself, thinking that he shouldn't be there.

* * *

Alfred tromped through the snow, his feet blue but at least he couldn't feel them anymore. He should be worried, but no one else was off any better, plus it wasn't like he was going to get any help. Alfred wouldn't ask for help even if he was on his death bed. He had lost most of his pride, but he refused to lose the last bit of it.

He threw his lump of wood onto the pile of wood that was waiting for its arrival. He saw blood stains on it, and looked at his hands. Sure enough there was blood leaking out from under his nails and where the splinters had dug in too deep for him to pull out. He noticed that his hands were starting to turn from pink to blue. Well he couldn't have that. If his hands turned blue then he couldn't work, and here in Auschwitz they shot anyone who couldn't work. Alfred shoved his hands into his armpits, hoping that they would warm up just a bit by the time that he walked over to where the rest of the wood lay.

Smoke began to rise out of the columns of the factory again. It was a daily experience here, but still whenever they started up and smoke poured out, Alfred couldn't help the shiver that would go down his spine. Something bad was going on there, something that he didn't want to know about.

Alfred F. Jones wouldn't die just yet though, he still had something to live for.

* * *

The train stopped somewhere that even if they had told Alfred the name of he probably still wouldn't have known where he was. Everyone filed out of the car one by one, chains that Alfred had thought were individual were really chains that bound everyone together. It was at least sunny where they were, so at least Alfred wouldn't have to worry about freezing or get soaked by the rain. Alfred held his head high, looking around at everyone and everything. He wanted to remember this place when he finally got free and back to America.

"Put head down!" Chaim whispered to him. Alfred looked at his friend in confusion. Why would he ever want to do that? Didn't Chaim want to know where he was for when he got rescued?

_Bang!_

A gunshot. Then another, Alfred's eyes were on the ground faster than lightning. They were randomly going through the crowd and looking over the people chained up like dogs, deciding which one to kill and which ones to spare. Boots entered Alfred's vision, but he didn't look up. Probably the smartest decision that he had made since he entered Germany.

"Warum ist dieser hier?" a voice asked. Alfred wished that he had taken German in school instead of French; it would have come in handy right now.

"Er ist Amerikaner," another voice responded. That last word sounded like America. Alfred growled, and brought his gaze up.

"I'm American. Now let me go."

Alfred was lucky to get those six words out. The officer nailed him in the face with his elbow, making Alfred fall to his knees. His teeth cut his lip, and drops of blood began to spill onto the ground.

"You have not been killed because of your hair and eyes. It is an honor to live and serve the Führer. If we hear one more word though, you shall be shot on site. Understand?"

Alfred nodded, not trusting his voice to say the right thing. The guards moved on, leaving Alfred bleeding and still on his knees. Chaim grabbed his arm, lifting him up and supporting some of his weight. Alfred shot him a grateful look, which the other deftly ignored for the reasons of safety.

"Congratulations! Those that are left, you all will be shipped to serve the Führer in Auschwitz," someone shouted. Alfred heard silence as his response.

"You will all be shipped out tomorrow. Back onto the train," the same voice said.

Alfred almost groaned aloud. He managed to hide it internally though, and piled onto the train with everyone else that was in his car. Someone, maybe taking pity on them, unlocked their chains and let them just pile into the car. Alfred was more aware than every how close like sardines they were in this car. He felt like they were just pieces of meat being shipped from one city to another.

"Mommy…" a voice whimpered. Alfred almost didn't hear it. Yet when he looked up, sure enough there was a little girl in the corner of the car, crying her eyes out. Alfred looked at the people near her, but they all seemed to be ignoring her, purposefully looking everywhere else in the car besides her. Alfred's face still hurt and bleeding, but he still got up from his spot and went over to this small girl who needed someone.

"Hey," he said softly. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, afraid that he would hurt her or try something.

"My name's Alfred, don't worry I'm not going to hurt you," she looked a bit relieved at his words. "Where's your mommy?" he asked. Maybe she was just in another car. Tears welled up in the girls eyes though, Alfred felt his heart drop.

"They…they hurt her. She fell and wouldn't get up and then they made us get into the train again. She's okay right?" Realization dawned on Alfred's face. This girls poor mother was one of the ones that they decided to eliminate. No wonder no one would talk to her, they didn't want to be the ones to explain that her mom wouldn't be coming back.

"Shhh, what's your name?" he asked, holding his arms open. She hesitated for a moment, but then crawled into his lap, laying her head against his chest.

"Ashira," she whispered.

"Well Ashira, why don't I sing you a song? Pretty girls like you should always be sung to sleep, don't you think?" Alfred chuckled. Ashira giggled at his comment, nodding her head.

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked. Alfred didn't have to look down to know that there was a smile on her face. He didn't want that smile to fade.

"You're beautiful," he answered. She smiled brighter than he had ever seen any other girl smile before. He began the lullaby that had been sung to him.

_Hush now love,_

_and let sleep reign over_

_Sleep tight, sleep well,_

_it's time for you to go to bed_

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good,_

_and know I'm always there. _

_Quite love, and dream good dreams_

_always dreaming of me_

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good_

_and know I'm always there. _

Alfred started humming, already feeling Ashira begin to relax against him. She wasn't asleep just yet though, so he kept up her lullaby.

_Listen to the Angels song_

_and dream the dream of Gods good song_

_Dream of love_

_dream of joy_

_And when you wake, _

_I'll be here _

_Dream, dream forever more_

_and always dream of me._

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good,_

_and know I'm always there. _

He tampered off, knowing that by now she was sleeping. Alfred looked up to see everyone else was staring at him. Alfred smiled and brought a finger to his lips, making sure that they stayed quiet so that Ashira could sleep. A pressure on his arm made Alfred look to his left, where another child was resting against him, staring at him with wide eyes. Before Alfred's gaze four more kids came out from other parts of their small car, coming forward and resting themselves against Alfred, be it on his legs or at his feet or leaning against his arms. Soon Alfred couldn't move an inch without disturbing them.

"Can you sing it again?" One of the little boys asked. Alfred smiled at him and nodded his head. Alfred began his song once again, singing until he was sure that all the children had fallen asleep. No one spoke a word until they all woke up again. While all the children went off to their parent or relative, Ashira stayed with Alfred, never letting go of his hand or leaving his side. In turn, Alfred never let her out of his sight.

* * *

Another plank of wood, this one rotting and almost slipping off his shoulder, Alfred made his way all the way across camp once again. His eyes deftly wandered over the camp, trying to make it as unobvious as he could. His eyes caught Chaim's; the man gave a simple blink of his eyes to acknowledge his friend. Alfred barely inclined his head in return. Coughs suddenly racked his lungs, making him pause in his steps. Alfred noticed that another man had fallen to his knees. Alfred heard a gunshot. The man on his knees fell onto his face in the snow, and before Alfred could blink the snow turned pink around him.

Alfred pitied the man, but there was nothing that he could do now. He picked up his steps, not wanting to be the next target for a bullet through the brain. He worked through his cough, ignoring how it pained him. Ashira wouldn't have anyone else to look after her if he died, and if that wasn't a reason to live then Alfred didn't know what was.

So Alfred ignored his freezing hands and feet, and thought about how happy he would be to see Ashira when night finally fell and he was allowed to rest. The children were always kept on their own and away from the adults as they were smaller and couldn't do the work that they were doing. He was lucky though, Ashira was smart and knew that she shouldn't go anywhere without him. He had seen many children being taken away from their parents because they trusted the bastards that put them there. Even though she wasn't even ten she knew more than any other kid there.

He coughed into his hand. He glanced down at his palm, just because he always had, and almost stopped walking what he saw what was there. Blood coated his palm. He knew that he was getting sick, but he thought nothing of it. Alfred had always been strong, even more so than his peers and siblings. Every sickness he got he had overcome in just a day or two. But if he was coughing up blood then things were much worse than he had thought.

* * *

The train didn't stop as it reached moved closer and closer to its destination. Days and nights had fallen over them, and they weren't fed and the only water they got was from the snow that started to fall. Alfred was beginning to think that they were trying to make sure that they were starved by the time that they got there.

"I'm hungry Alfie," Ashira whispered. It was his turn to stand, so he held her in his arms, making sure that she was warm.

"I know, want some more water?" she shook her head.

"Sing me my lullaby," she asked nicely. Alfred smiled at her.

"Only if you ask if anyone else wants to listen, okay?" Ashira groaned, she didn't want to move.

"Please? Just this once?" Alfred couldn't help but agree to her pleading tone. He sang her lullaby, he had never been so glad that he had paid attention to his mother when she would sing that song to his brother when he got sick.

As he finished her lullaby the train came to a rattling halt. Ashira woke up out of her daze of drowsiness, wondering if she should be glad or worried that the train had finally stopped.

"Don't leave my side unless I tell you too okay?" Alfred said quickly, before they were all rushed into silence once again. Ashira nodded, her response would have already been shushed by the guards. They piled out of their car, along with many others. Some people didn't rise from where they were sitting; Alfred noticed that they were paler than anyone else there. Unlike last time when everyone ignored a person, Alfred did nothing.

"Men, go here! Women here!" a German voice screamed. Alfred tightened his voice on Ashira, not wanting to let go of her.

"Faster! Vermin move faster than this," Alfred heard again. He looked around quickly, there not too far away from him was a woman with a child of her own. Alfred pushed his way through the crowd until he was next to the women.

"Ashira, I'm going to have to leave you, just for a little bit. Here this woman will watch over you okay? Just stay with her and wait until I find you. Remember, stay quiet and don't draw attention to yourself. Just stay with this lady," he said briskly. They were almost to where the men and women separated.

"Please watch over her, I'm all that she has I can't lose her," he whispered to the woman. She nodded with vigor. He didn't even know if she understood his words or not, but she knew what he wanted. He learned very quickly, the people here were helping each other, they looked out for each other. She took Ashira by the hand and led her into the room. Alfred waved at her when she turned back to look at him. There was worry written all over her face, but she waved back.

"Hey! What are you doing? Come on?" someone whispered to Alfred. He realized that he had just been standing there, staring at where Ashira had just been. He walked with the person who had probably saved his life, or at least saved him from getting a pretty bad beating.

They entered a rather long hallway. There were no guards inside, so whispers ran throughout the corridor, rumors of things to come and how things were going to go downhill from there. Alfred could only catch bits and pieces at a time.

"Gas chambers-"

"Death camp-"

"Experiments-"

Death camp? Gas chambers? Experiments? Had Alfred just unwittingly sent Ashira to her death? Where were they headed now? Alfred was so worried; he knew that he should have tried something while they still could. He should have told everyone to rebel, they could have even taken control of the train. The corridor ended and opened to one large room. Men were split between one side of the room to another. One side of the room was being lead to one chamber and the other side of the room was being led into another chamber. Alfred stared at them. He knew immediately, one of those rooms was life, and other was death.

He was ushered to a corner, and ordered to strip. Alfred did so quickly, thinking that the faster that he did so the sooner that he could leave and the sooner that he could get to Ashira. He hadn't even known the girl for three days and she was calling all his attention. She needed him though, and he wouldn't, no he couldn't let her down.

Some man came forward and looked him over. Alfred fought every urge he had to cover up his body with his hands. If he struggled then he was probably going to get beaten. He needed to stay strong so that he could protect everyone. He had always wanted to be the hero when he got older, and this was his perfect opportunity. For once he was happy that he had always tried to look muscular and be strong.

The man observing him wrote something down on a clipboard. Alfred was sent to the right side of the room. Looking over at the other side he noticed that the man who had brought him to his senses outside was on the opposite side of the room. Chaim was on the same side as him as well. Guards stood in the middle of the room, making sure that no one would try to cross to the other side. Not like anyone would even try anyways.

Then everyone was done getting examined and assigned to a side. Everyone was brought into the rooms that were on their sides. Alfred had never felt more nervous in his life than right at this moment. This room was either life or death to him right now. Every man was squished together; Alfred was closer to other men than he had ever wanted to be in his life. Panic was quickly gathering in the room, making him more nervous than he already was.

Water rained down on them. They weren't in a gas chamber; it was just a shower for them. And boy, did they all need showers. There were shouts and cries of joy, apparently Alfred wasn't the only one who was worried that this was really a gas chamber. Even though the water was freezing, Alfred scrubbed his body clean and made sure that his hair got a good soaking as well. There was no soap, but it was still a lot better than stinking up the place. All too soon the shower and their moment of peace ended and they were all ushered out of the shower and to another room where they were reunited with the women and children. Alfred hurriedly put on the clothes that were given to him before he went through the crowd searching for Ashira.

"Ashira!" he yelled lightly. People turned to him, but Ashira wasn't there. He looked for her mop of brown curly hair that made her stand out, but he didn't see anything.

"Ashira!" he shouted louder. Nothing, again. He couldn't risk shouting any louder, the guards would probably hear him. Then, just as he was about to give up, something latched onto his leg. There, against his leg, was a familiar head of brown curly hair.

"Alfie!" she squealed. Alfred grinned brightly down at her.

"I missed you!" she said, raising her arms, wanting to be picked up. He complied, picking her up with no trouble.

"I missed you too kiddo. What happened to the lady I left you with?" he needed to thank her.

"She went to the other room, and someone else is with the boy that was with her. Is she gonna be alright?" Ashira asked with a tilt of her head. She was so innocent; Alfred couldn't tell her the truth.

"Ya, she's probably going to be taken to another place okay?" Alfred responded. His girl smiled and nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. Alfred brushed her hair out with his fingers, making her smile. He wished that he had a comb to properly get rid of all the tangles that accumulated there.

"It is night! Head to bed, assignments shall be given tomorrow morning, six a.m. sharp!" a random voice said. Alfred figured that it must have been on speakers, since it seemed to come from all areas of the room.

* * *

Alfred never did get to tell that women thank you. At this point though, the people here were better off dead. A bell tolled, well it wasn't really a bell as it was a horn sounding through the air. Lunch, well at least something to eat. He had to save some for Ashira and some of the other kids that they were hiding in their bunk room. Alfred went and got his chunk of bread and some cheese. He took one bite of each, savoring the taste but his stomach turned at the new arrival. He needed the substance, even if he felt like throwing up.

Back to work he went. Night soon fell, and even though it got colder they didn't stop working. Everyone worked until they either couldn't or they were dismissed for the night. Alfred had managed to move all the wood from one side of the camp to another, and was working on another project, bringing water from the well that they dug and bringing it to the generals and the captains. Alfred didn't even know how they got water that was unfrozen in this freezing weather, but somehow the well managed to do it.

The bucket's handle dug into his palm, making more blood spill out and the splinters that were there dig in even further. As he placed it down before another person who was more properly dressed to go into the presence of the leaders, his nail caught on the edge, splitting. Alfred hissed in pain, and grasping onto it a flick of his wrist got rid of the hanging nail. Blood poured out of the wound, which he staunched with the end of his shirt. Half his nail was gone, but at least it would grow back. He saw some people that were in such bad shape that their nails were falling off.

Alfred went back to get another bucket of water, making sure that he grasped it with the hand that wasn't wounded so that no blood would get into it. He still couldn't risk getting killed here. There were so many more people relying on him than just Ashira now. He had become the leader of his group, the person that everyone else looked to in their bunker. Every night, the kids they were hiding there would wait for him to sing Ashira's lullaby. He had to be there to sing it for them.

Those kids, those poor kids that they were hiding. It had been such a normal day before the real snow had come in and things weren't as bad as they were then. The people weren't as broken as they were now.

* * *

"Chaim, do you think that Ashira knows to hide in case something goes wrong?" Alfred asked his friend. They were working, but the guards didn't care or listened as long as they were quiet enough. Chaim looked at his friend with surprise in his eyes.

"Yes. She knows all good hiding places," Chaim stated. Alfred still worried though, his gut told him that something bad would happen today.

Alfred wasn't sure if he wanted to be around to see it.

Ashira was playing in her bunker with a couple of other kids. She was waiting for Alfred to get back so that he could tell her stories and sing her lullaby. It was hard waiting for him though, because he would always be gone when she woke up and wouldn't return until late. They were playing patty cake, something that always entertained them in times of boredom.

"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, bakers man," they sang.

"Bake me a cake as fast as you can," she sung that part.

"Roll it, Pat it and mark it with B," the boy, Markus sang.

"Put it in the oven for baby and me," she sang back.

Their rhyme ended in giggles. They never got past that part of the song. It was too much fun and the rhyme was too silly for them to get past the first verse.

"Children! Come and gather, we are all going on a special trip," a man entered the room. He was wearing all black and his voice demanded no questions. Yet while Ashira shied away, Markus joined forward to the man.

"Where are we going?" Markus asked. The man smiled down at him, but it looked forced. Other children came out of their places, wondering where the special trip could be to.

"Somewhere special, now come along, we must be quick." The man turned around without another word, obviously expecting them to follow behind him. Ashira held back though, remembering what Alfred had told her. Her friends paused, wondering why she wasn't coming along.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to go on a trip?" Markus asked.

"But remember what Alfie said? We can't go anywhere without him!" Ashira wished that she could shout, but it just came out as a loud whisper. She didn't want the man to come back and drag her on this 'trip'.

"They're probably going to come and get him as well! Come on I bet it'll be fun!" Markus grabbed her hand and tried to drag her out, but Ashira would have nothing to do with that. She leaned away from him, planting her feet on the ground.

"Nuh uh! No way! Let's hide, Alfie will find us. We have to listen," Ashira said in her loud whisper again. Markus rolled his eyes, giving up.

"Fine! Stay here, I'm going on the special trip!" Markus ran out the door. Some of Ashira's friends were still there, she grabbed their hands, dragging them to the hiding spots that Alfred had told her about.

"We have to hide! They might come back." Ashira quickly moved, making sure that they were hidden completely before she hid her next friend. When they were all hidden, she hid herself in the best place that she knew, inside Alfred's mattress.

Snow was just beginning to fall again on their work outside. It wasn't the first time that snow had begun sprinkling and Alfred was sure that it wasn't going to be the last. Luckily, the ground was just frozen like a block of ice, the snow would always melt before it could stay or become slush.

Engines roared. It was almost unheard of for the people out here to use the cars to leave and not the train. Alfred's head, along with many others, shot up and looked out of curiosity. He paled as white as the snow was falling when he saw what was really on those two army trucks going out. Their kids were piled onto the back, waving goodbye. They were just outside of the fence that kept everyone else inside.

"No!" Alfred roared. Women were screaming, men looked about ready to cry, and everyone ran to the gate in hopes of stopping the truck. All the kids just waved at them, looking happy. They didn't know what was really going on.

"Bring them back! Bring them back right now!" Alfred yelled at a guard. He was rewarded with a punch to the gut and a hit to his temple. Alfred ended up on his knees, Chaim came forward and lifted him up, making sure that his friend stayed on his feet.

"Your children are going to be trained and shall work for the Führer. They serve no further need here," the General said. Women were comforting each other, but all were hoping the same thing, that their children had been smart enough to hide away and not be one of the souls that were trapped on that truck.

"Ashira is smart, you know she hides," Chaim whispered to Alfred. Alfred gave the smallest of nods, still glaring at the General.

"Quit your glares, it is an honor to be here and an honor for your children," the General snapped out.

"That's what you said when you brought us here, but this is just another hell! You're sending our kids off to die and you don't even care! Why don't you just kill us all and be done with it already?" Alfred screamed. Looking back on this moment, he would wonder why he wasn't just killed right then and there.

"1411026, be quiet," oh yes the prisoner numbers. Everyone had one, and if the guards knew yours by heart it meant you caused enough trouble for them. Alfred didn't even care though, "take him to the rehabilitation room."

Two guards grabbed Alfred immediately, dragging him to the one room that no one ever wanted to go into. It was called the rehabilitation room because that was where they made their prisoners 'better' so to speak. Really, it was just where they would take them and beat them until the prisoner couldn't stand anymore, or until they died. Whichever one came first.

Alfred struggled, oh how he struggled. He kicked and bruised and bit until they finally got to the door way and Alfred was strapped down and ready for his punishment. The General came in, removing his leather gloves and putting on those surgical gloves that doctors use. Alfred was placed on a table, his hands and feet bound until he couldn't struggle without hurting himself even more.

"We haven't had someone misbehave in a while, and dare say it, but I was starting to miss it," the General said, grabbing a scalpel. There was a sharp pain on the back of his hand, and Alfred looked down to see what was going on. There was an I.V. stuck unceremoniously in the back of his hand, red liquid already being drained out of it.

"What are you doing bastards!?" Alfred screamed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, do not argue with your superiors. You two, hold his shoulders down. I want this one to last if he struggles then we might not learn as much." Two hands shot out of nowhere, holding Alfred down to the steel table.

"Hey! Stop it! Let me go!" Alfred screamed again. He was ignored once again. The scalpel was brought into his vision once again, waving almost tauntingly in his vision.

"Now, do not hold back your screams." The scalpel was brought down to his skin, right in the middle of his chest below his collar bone.

Alfred couldn't help the tears that sprung to his eyes. The scalpel dragged down all the way through his belly button, down to his hip bones. Then it was dragged across his hip bones, making a large upside down 'T'. When that scalpel was brought away, Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. He wished that he hadn't. Oh God something was pulling at his skin, pulling off and away, and Lord did it hurt. Alfred couldn't help it, he screamed and screamed until his voice gave out and his mouth just opened in a silent scream. They were pulling back skin and muscle, showing bones and ribs and things that were never meant to be seen by human eyes. Tears streamed down the sides of his face, blurring his vision.

"See, you can see him breathing. Take the I.V. out while we're at it, we have enough blood," Alfred vaguely heard a voice said. He just wanted the world to stop and his skin to go back to where it was before.

His torture didn't end though. Alfred will never forget what it felt like to have his skin be torn off his skin, or how the scalpel tore through muscles like it was butter. Just when he felt like he was going to die and just when he was almost wishing for death to take him away, the pain stopped.

"Alright, we have done enough. Put him back the way he was before," a voice said.

Alfred almost cried from relief. It almost hurt to put everything back, but it was worse when they had taken him apart. His skin and muscles were put back into place, then stitched back to where they belonged. There was so much blood everywhere, but the men worked through it, as soldiers do. When they were done Alfred was dragged back to his bunker, where his friends waited for his arrival. Alfred was thrown onto the floor, and couldn't raise himself up again.

"Alfred!" Chaim yelled. Other's ran forward and rolled him onto his back, seeing the blood and how pale Alfred was. They moved him to the most comfortable place that they had, which was on the one blanket that someone had managed to sneak in.

Someone dabbed water at his poorly done stitches, making him cringe. There were whispers and gasps of horror, but Alfred couldn't hear them. Now that he was back and somewhat conscious, he had one thought on his mind.

"Where…Ashira…" he could barely get the words out. Chaim nodded though.

"She is safe," he said. Alfred closed his eyes and passed out. She was safe, and that was all he cared about right now.

* * *

Now that he thought about it, that was when his sickness had started. At first his stitches seemed to be getting better, but now if he was coughing up blood then it must be getting burned. Here out in the snow, that upside down T was the only thing that felt somewhat warm. He was sure that if he was in better conditions then they would feel as if they were on fire.

The horn sounded. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. He would be able to go in and lie down and rest. Ashira would talk to him and they would talk about their day and other people would go and join in their conversations. It was the nicest time of the day, simply because it was their time.

Alfred was wondering if he would even be able to make it to the bunker. His vision swam before his eyes, black spots swimming before his eyes. Chaim went near his friend, holding onto his arm with a strong grip that one wouldn't expect. He seemed to know that Alfred needed his help right then, and with a steadying hand he led Alfred all the way to the bunker and to where he could finally lay down.

"Alfie! I missed you!" Ashira happily cried as he entered. As soon as he laid down she planted himself on his stomach, forgetting about his cuts there. Alfred hissed in pain, and someone lifted her off him.

"I missed you too kiddo," he said through short pants. It was so hot in this room all of the sudden, as if he was standing in the middle of the desert. Chaim took the blanket and draped it over him, ignoring the way that Alfred tried to push it off.

"I'm so hot…" Alfred said.

"Fine, I check wounds. Okay?" Still all the time that he had hung out with Alfred and his English didn't seem to get any better.

Chaim gently moved the blanket and unbuttoned Alfred's shirt. He winced at the wounds that weren't healing at all. They were festering, puss coming out from in between the stitches. Someone handed Chaim a piece of cloth. He tried to watch off the fresh blood and puss, but more appeared to replace what was once there. Chaim tried a few more times, with no new results, he buttoned up Alfred's shirt and left it alone.

"How does it look doc?" Alfred coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth, no longer droplets but a solid liquid that was like a river in his mouth.

"You will be fine," Chaim said with a smile. That smile didn't reach his eyes.

"He needs a Doctor! We can't just let him die!" A woman frantically cried. Everyone had gathered around Alfred, they didn't want to lose another friend.

"They won't send one and you know that Haya. They'll just torture him until he stops breathing. Better if he stays here and has peace." They didn't think that Alfred could hear them, but he could. Ashira on the other hand was so absorbed in worrying about Alfred that she didn't hear.

"We're just going to send him to his death?"

"There's not much else we can do," Chaim spoke up for his friend this time, sending a glare towards Haya. She looked at the floor, finding it suddenly so much more interesting.

"Is Alfie gonna be okay?" Ashira asked Chaim with a tug at his sleeve. He brought his attention down to her, wondering what he should say.

"I'm feeling better already," Alfred croaked out before Chaim could reply. Chaim stared down at Alfred with pity in his eyes. Yet it was true though, Alfred didn't feel hot though, and his stitches didn't hurt at all either.

"Hey kiddo, when I'm not around listen to Chaim okay?" Alfred coughed again, more blood coming up. It didn't taste like anything, as if he was just coughing up water.

"Where are you going?" Ashira asked. He took her hand with his, holding her hand. It felt so much warmer than his did.

"Nowhere, I'll be right here. Just promise me okay?" Ashira nodded and Alfred smiled at her, bloody teeth showing. More coughs came, almost making him black out, his vision swimming in front of his eyes like before when he was outside. The coughs died down slowly, and his vision returned.

"Ashira, will you sing me your lullaby?" he requested. It would be nice for someone to sing it to him instead of the other way around. This time she didn't question it, she just started singing for him. Her voice sounded so much nicer than his did.

_Hush now love,_

_and let sleep reign over_

_Sleep tight, sleep well,_

_it's time for you to go to bed_

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good,_

_and know I'm always there. _

_Quite love, and dream good dreams_

_always dreaming of me_

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good_

_and know I'm always there. _

Alfred's vision swam before his eyes. His breaths became shorter. Suddenly he felt so calm and peaceful, like he could finally relax since his first night there. Ashira was being watched over by Chaim, and he didn't have to be the hero anymore.

"Hey….. I think I need to change my glasses….it's getting blurry," he whispered. Ashira hesitated in her song for a moment, but a nudge from Chaim reminded her of what she should be doing.

_Listen to the Angels song_

_and dream the dream of Gods good song_

_Dream of love_

_dream of joy_

_And when you wake, _

_I'll be here _

_Dream, dream forever more_

_and always dream of me._

_Sleep, sleep well, sleep good,_

_and know I'm always there. _

Alfred F. Jones didn't think that his life would end this way. He didn't think that he would be sent here of all places, or that he would ever get the chance to be the hero. Alfred F. Jones got to be the hero once in his life, and he made sure that he did his job well.

_Dream, dream forever more_

_and always dream of me._

* * *

__Chaim is not real, neither are any of the characters besides Alfred and that's just because I didn't make him up in my head. Ashira manages to live to the ripe age of 80, saved from Auschwitz by Oskar Schindler, (who was an actual real person and actually saved children from Auschwitz). Reminder again, Ashira and Chaim and anyone else that I have mentioned besides Alfred are made up characters.

Ashira's lullaby was written by me as well.

This took days for me to write, so if you could review and tell me what you thought then I would love you and be your best friend forever.


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